Masks
by Hadican
Summary: Tim had worn masks long before he donned the mantel of Robin. One Shot.


Masks

The first mask Tim had worn, if he had to say, was when he had taken violin lessons.

His father loved the violin, had even played in his younger years, but had become disimpassioned with the whole notion after Tim had been born.

More important things, he had said once, but Tim couldn't keep from thinking that the reason his father had given up his passion was because of him. It fit just a little too perfectly for the third Robin's liking.

It should have warmed his heart to be counted as _important_ , but Tim knew better. Important was not a word his father would have used in regards to Tim at the time. A nuisance, a being that needed tended to, and something that stood between him and his passions. His work.

Sometimes, he figured, that perhaps he thought _too_ much. At least that was one thing that belonged to him, but he couldn't say it was a good something. It was his though, so that counted, right?

He had requested to take violin lessons, and for a while it had made his father happy.

Then, two years in, Jack had shown up almost religiously to watch, Tim thought he had finally gotten his father's attention, his love, but soon his father was too busy to even bother showing up to Tim's performances. A new business endeavor, he had said, and once more Jack was stolen away.

He had lost the passion just as quickly as his father had.

One time his favorite house keeper, Ms. Annabel, had found the violin while cleaning. She gushed, told him that she absolutely adored the violin, and without another thought he let her have it. It didn't matter how much it had cost; it was worthless to him now. She insisted that she couldn't, but he had told her it was no big deal.

Two days later his father found out and fired her.

That was the first time he had ever screamed at his father. Let him have all of his despair and anguish. Let him know exactly how he felt.

And what did his father do?

Called in a therapist.

He decided a different mask might work better at that point.

School work was one of the things they actually managed to talk about around the dinner table when his father was there. Tim had been interested in school work, but he had never bothered to go into too much detail with his father.

As a kid he rarely got involved with any extra schooling because loving school _too much_ was already bringing bullies out of the wood works.

He was at a private school. That should not be a problem, but even spoilt rich kids got bored. Fighting alleviated some tension for them he supposed.

For a while this worked too. As he grew he got higher and higher marks. Awards, teachers telling him that he should be in the grade above, so on and so forth.

His father had been proud. Clasped his hand on his shoulder and told him he had done good.

Tim got bullied. The bullies had finally noticed him, and before coming under the tutelage of Batman, Tim had been a poor fighter. He hid the marks from his father, because hearing how proud Jack was of him made the pain in his ribs and arms melt away.

But all too soon, just like with the violin lessons, his father's interest in him and his endeavors fell away. Another business venture, but this time his father hadn't nearly the same amount of cash to throw away as he had last time. This meant being in the office twice as much. Trying to carefully weave a full proof plan that wouldn't end in failure.

Weeks went by and Tim was stopped in the hallway by the head bully and all of his cronies. Franky, yeah, the kid's name was Franky. His father was some guy who owned several gas stations in downtown Gotham, scraping up just enough cash to get him into the school.

He had pressed his finger into Tim's collar bone, leaving a bruise in his wake, and asked Tim just who he thought he was. Tim had earned an honor recently, and despite the fact that his father didn't even know, his teachers had praised him. That was enough incentive to keep going, and obviously this had really frustrated his bullies who had nothing else better to do apparently.

Tim let Frankie and his cronies have it all. Have all of the pent up aggression he had been feeling ever since his father had dumped him for his business.

Two kids got a black eye, another a bruised rib, and still another got a concussion. Though the concussion wasn't technically his fault. The buffoon had charged him and he managed to get out of the way at the last second, sending the kid headlong into the brick wall behind them. Franky got not only his nose bloodied, but a split lip too.

Tim got expelled after Franky and his cronies' parents had a hissy fit at the head of the school. The teachers had spoken on his behalf, but all of the parents had threatened to pull their kids out of the school.

One kid getting kicked out was a lot better than five leaving, so it was an easy decision for the school board.

What did his father do?

He walked into his therapist's office the next day by himself.

He brought her some banana bread, her favorite, and the two talked. At least someone listened to him, even if she got paid to, but that was better than nothing.

The third and final mask Tim wore before donning the guise of Robin was to be a photographer.

The kid had done it on a whim. He had read about how cameras worked, they intrigued him, and he decided that he wanted one. Of course, his father bought him one with the express idea that the device would keep Tim out of his hair.

Tim had read the manual cover to cover before even starting. Tested the effects of lighting, depth, shutter speed, and before he knew it, he had amassed quite the photo album.

He was good too. Able to get the clearest of shots from even moving objects.

His father had marveled at just how good he was, at first, just like he had done with every other thing Tim tried to be.

Tim had thought optimistically that the third time would be the charm, so to speak.

He should have known better.

 _Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times…guess I'm a glutton for punishment…_ He had thought bitterly.

Still, his father, who was still into the idea of Tim the Photographer had mentioned something about a circus coming into town offhandedly.

Memories resurfaced almost instantly at the mention of a circus. He remembered, though fuzzy, when his parents had taken him to see the Flying Graysons. That day…He shuttered at the remembrance of that terrible event.

Tim didn't even know the Grayson family all that well. No connection to them past getting a picture with them, not until much, much later, when Dick would help him get to sleep after a rough night of fighting crime by telling him stories about his time at the circus.

Even back then he knew how much the Graysons loved each other, how much Dick's parents meant to him. You could _see_ it. A toddler could see it, and he had.

Sometimes Tim would feel ashamed, and he told Dick once that he didn't want him to tell those stories if it brought up any hard memories for him. In typical Dick Grayson fashion, he had laughed and told him that telling these stories helped him cope and _thanked_ Tim for giving him a reason to reminisce.

Tim didn't bother going to the circus his father mentioned, but by that time it didn't much matter. His father had already started to drift away. He became uninterested in Tim and his photography, but honestly so had Tim. Just not for his father's lack of attention this time.

That day never left Tim's mind after being reminded, and something jolted inside of him when he saw a boy named Robin by the famed Batman's side, doing things that only Dick Grayson of the Flying Graysons could do in a video.

He once more found a reason to dust off his old camera. It might not get his father's attention or love, but it was something to do.

At least, he wasn't wearing it as a mask this time around.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know lots have people have probably done this before, but I thought I'd take a crack at it. I've seen several different portrayals of Jack Drake from being emotionally to physically abusive, sometimes both. Honestly, if I had to say, I think that he's more neglectful than anything else. Too wrapped up in his own devices to even consider Tim or his feelings. Also, no mention of Janet because I wanted to focus more on Tim and his relationship with his father. Granted she treated him about the same honestly. Thanks for reading, and drop a review if ya feel like.


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